


Wake Me Up Before You Go Go

by incogneat_oh



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Stalker Tim Drake, dorky Tim is important to me, minor reference to parental death, weird families bonding weirdly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 19:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13794675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incogneat_oh/pseuds/incogneat_oh
Summary: He’s already halfway up the stairs, towards the window on the second floor landing, when Dick says, “Tim.”He turns back, says wide-eyed and guilty, “Mhm? Can I– I’ll get you a blanket? If you want?”--Or, Tim visits Dick in Bludhaven.





	Wake Me Up Before You Go Go

-

Dick Grayson is face-down on his sofa, most of the way to sleep. He’s had a long couple days, what with problems at work and problems at  _work,_  wondering if Bruce is avoiding his calls, his bad knee acting up _again_ , and on top of all of that, a fight with Babs. He is dozing, and waiting for the painkillers he took to get to work on the drill-bit headache at the base of his skull.

He distantly aware that he’ll wake up with the sofa-pattern pressed into his cheek and probably a crick in his neck, but can’t quite bring himself to move.

Until he hears a very faint creak. 

Most people would’ve written it off as their imagination. But Dick knows better.

Against his will, he feels a smile twitch against his lips. And without opening his eyes, he mumbles into the cushion, “Don’t have a camera by any chance, do you?”

His apartment is dead-silent. 

And then, “I–” a sputter. “ _No,_ ” followed by, “I don't– n-not. I don’t _do_ that, any more.”

Dick says, “Oh no?”

“Of course not!” More quietly, a mumble, “And I never… when you were asleep.” There’s a moment where Dick can hear fidgeting, the sound of shoes scuffing his carpet. “Whaddaya think I am, some kinda creep? – _nowait_ , don’t answer that.”

When Dick lifts himself up on one elbow, he sees Tim standing by the stairs in civilian clothes, an oversized sweater and a pair of faded jeans half-sticking out the top of his lace-up sneakers. His arms are folded, his face a brilliant shade of red. He’s making an admirable effort to look unflustered, _defiant_ , but it isn’t working.

And then, horror dawning across his face, hands coming up like a barrier between them, Tim says, “Oh– no, wait– no, don’t, just, stay where you are, forget I was here. I wasn’t supposed to wake you if you were asleep!”

He’s already halfway up the stairs, towards the window on the second floor landing, when Dick says, “Tim.”

He turns back, says wide-eyed and guilty, “Mhm? Can I– I’ll get you a blanket? If you want?”

“If you go out that window,” Dick says. “I’m gonna have to chase you and bring you back. And it’s kind of nice in here for the moment, plus I’d have to find shoes, so I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

Tim’s sort-of frowning, not really sure what to make of this, when Dick holds up an arm. Says, “Come here.”

Unable to refuse an order, the boy’s feet carry him closer. But he stubbornly stays out of reach. 

He's fidgeting when he says, “I didn’t mean to wake you. I didn’t knock, in case you were asleep, so I thought if I just came in through the window and was really quiet, I’d know for sure–”

Dick takes his arm and yanks him down onto the couch. He puts an arm around Tim’s shoulders, pressing his cheek into the freshly-washed hair. He says, “We’ll call it square for the hug, okay?”

There’s a pause, in which Tim’s stiff posture only relaxes slightly. He says, after a moment, “Did I say sorry?”

Dick considers it. “I think it was implied,” he decides eventually. Then he says, “How’s your dad?”

“Awake,” Tim says. And Dick can’t decide if he’s trying to be funny, until he says “Which is all sorts of weird. But he’s getting some mobility in the chair which is good, even if he still refuses to talk about Mom.”

Dick squeezes him a little more tightly, glances down in time to see Tim’s nose wrinkle.

“But I think he has a crush on his physical therapist, which is inconceivably gross. She’s like, _your_ age, and that raises a bunch of questions I don’t even wanna think about.”

“Is she hot?” and then, at the elbow to his ribs, “If you ever do need a refresher course on the birds and the, ah, bats, so to speak–”

“Literally _not ever_ –”

“–I was _gonna say_ , just make sure you never go to Bruce, okay?”

And it’s worth it, for the way he gets Tim to snort a little. Says, “Traumatising?”

“More than you’d believe.”

It takes a few moments for Tim to speak again, and the hesitant, careful touch to his side surprises Dick. It’s both clingier and more honest than is typical for Tim. “How’s work?” he asks. And, “Are you okay? I know you’ve been busy–”

Dick grins, tugging Tim further back on the couch with him, still half-tucked under his arm. He says, “I’m great, Timmy. And I tell you what. I’ll tell you how I’m doing, if you catch me up to speed on your Robin stuff. Deal?”

**-END-**

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr.](http://incogneat-oh.tumblr.com/post/45269137758/wake-me-up-before-you-go-go-drabble)


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